There's More Than What Meets The Eye
by BookEnchantress101
Summary: There is so much more than what meets the eye. The gang is more than what they seem. They're not always tuff or shy 24/7. What do they do when they're on their own? Let's find out, shall we? Rated T for minor swears.
1. Steve

**Hi guys I'm back! It's another story, byt I must warn you: if you don't enjoy it when the gang is vunerable and does stuff unexpected, this isn't the story for you. If you do in fact like that sorta different stuff, you came to the right place!** **Enjoy!** **P.S.** **Please leave a REVIEW! You can also FOLLOW this story to be posted with updates! And maybe you should FAVORITE it too, so you don't forget it!** **okay anyways...Enjoy!**

Steve

It was one of those days where literally everyone was busy or not around. Soda was off somewhere (he won't tell where), Dally was chilling in the cooler, Superman was picking up an extra shift, TwoBit was probably somewhere..., even Johnny and the kid were off at the lot doing God knows what.

So, naturally, Steve found himself going to the edge of town. He picked up some anymous clothes from a store nearbye, not the strength or tolerance that day to put up with his "dad". He got a pair of baggy trousers, a black t-shirt, a cap and sunglasses. He wore them and disguised himself so well, his own mother couldn't even recognize him.

Steve walked for a good ten minutes and strolled to one of the street corners taken up by two other guys and a girl.

The girl turned, and as Steve walked towards them, he caught her eye. "Aye guys! It's Dodger," she laughed.

The other guys turned and yelled in greeting.

The raven head was the first to stand up. He slapped Steve's back, "Welcome back Dodger."

"Good to be back, Hopps."

The young red head and gray eyed boy, who reminded Steve an awful lot of TwoBit, grinned saying,"Nice to have you back, man."

"Yeah, it's nice to see you haven't forgotten about us." The blonde girl added.

"I can never forget 'bout this place." Steve said. "Sides it gets kinda weird not having you and Happy Feet on my ear every second." Dodger grinned, "Sometimes the light can miss it's flies."

 ** _"HEY!"_** The two younger ones protested.

Steve blinked, "Hey what?" Dodger asked innocently.

"Hey Twinkle Toes, that's what!" The red headed boy, Happy Feet, grinned. Steve threw an arm around the youngest and scruffed the kid's hair. Twinkle Toes was another nickname they called him at times. The little shit came up with that one.

They all had nicknames for each other. No one knew their real names, and that's because they all had different lives. They didn't want Tulsa and its Greaser/Soc shit to ruin their little group. Steve never told anyone from his gang of these guys. Not even Soda (who he considered a brother.)

But when you have something like Steve had, you would do whatever it takes to keep it safe, right? Even if it means keeping a secret. You dig?

So the foursome agreed they would just give each other nicknames. They would do what they do for hours on end, then sooner or later, out of pure exhaustion and satisfaction, they would trudge through the roads or grass or wherever the hell they came from and return to their homes the next day. Or even stay at the corner. Steve doesn't know what they do, because he never stayed too long to find out. They all came to their corner every so often. Steve was the rarest visitor, so it was nice for them all to have the rest of the day together.

What would they do, you ask?

Well...it's something Steve never told anyone. And he never plans on telling anyone anytime soon.

It's a secret he'll take to his grave.

Steve comes here to dance...ish.

Shit, yes. He comes here to fucking dance.

What are you gonna laugh, jackass?

Steve's been doing it since he was ten.

Just the four of them. Most of the time it was a "friendly" competition against the other groups. Winners get a bunch of money too, so that's always a bonus. And they almost always win. They were known the Cornerstreet Gang.

But believe it not, Steve wasn't there for the money.

Steve Randle truly, actually liked- no loved to dance.

Steve Randle.

Likes to dance.

You see why he won't tell.

He loved it almost as much as he loved cars and fixing them. Even more at times.

What can he say, he loves the rush of it.

The sound of the rhythm moving him accordingly. The literal flying as the song goes under his feet and gripped his arms moving them in such a fashion that he can't even put into words. The sound of the beat hitting his eardrums repetitively making its point known. The instruments and lyrics combining together making a perfect harmony for him to move, giving him a deep rush of adrenaline that he can't begin to fathom why anyone would do drugs.

But he steered clear from school dances or dancing in front of people at all. Not that he would go to a school dance anyway, it's crap. As well as places like Buck's or the Dingo or where people dance. Too afraid he'll get too ahead of himself. Better to stay away without risking the sure to be questions of why and how he could dance.

Not that he would be embarrassed. Steve Randle doesn't do embarrassment.

"Actually," the black haired boy, Hopps, cut through his thoughts. "You came at the perfect time, Candypop got us a date with the guys cross town."

Candypop smirked, "Why do you look so surprised? I'm the only one that gets us these events." She was putting her hair in a ponytail and started to head where Steve would assume is downtown.

"See ya guys!" She yelled waving them over. Candy has a lot of energy. Steve bets that she and Soda would be great friends.

"Hell yeah. Finally." Hopps said and sauntered down the street right after her.

"Let's go, man." Happy Feet urged. "It's been a long time since we all did this together." He too followed Candypop.

"Too long." Steve agreed.

If he wants to do it, he's gonna fucking do it.

Gotta Be Tuff And Cold rule be damned.

It had been way to long.

Steve's gonna fix that.

 ** _Stay Gold,_**

 ** _Jenn U._**


	2. Dally

**It's another chapter, but I must warn you: if you don't enjoy it when the gang is vunerable and does stuff unexpected, this isn't the story for you. If you do in fact like that sorta different stuff, you came to the right place!**

 **Enjoy!**

 **P.S. Please leave a REVIEW! You can also FOLLOW this story to be posted with updates! And maybe you should FAVORITE it too, so you don't forget it!okay anyways...Enjoy!**

Dally

Dally barely hovered over the antique in front of him.

Black and smooth. He could see his reflection on the board of its polished wood. The white keys calling almost in an enchanting way.

He looked around the room slowly. Everyone had left. He was alone.

The guests left first. As well as some family friends after that. The funeral was a small gathering. It was simple and short. He knew Mr and Mrs. Curtis would have liked it. But after the guests, Dally left too. It was all too much. He couldn't deal with it. He couldn't even comfort his friends (not even Johnnycake) when they cried, because he didn't know how. So he left, more like ran, trying to ignore the painful stinging sensation in his eyes.

Coward.

He always thought of the Curtis' as family. What kind of fucked up _"family"_ can't even stay for the funeral of your brothers' dead parents.

A lousy one, that's for sure.

He came back though, red-eyed, sniffling, and with his cheeks flushed, hours later. But by then everyone had gone home, and it was a dark evening. The only thing that lit up the room, was the moon shining through the window, though it wasn't much. That was alright. Dally didn't need much light.

He found himself wandering through the belongings the couple owned. Before he found the piano he was staring at.

It had belonged to Mrs. Curtis. Dallas had found himself countless times hearing the magical music. At times he would be sitting on the arm of the couch pretending to hear Steve's boasts about how he chased away four Socs with a busted bottle, but really his ears belonged exclusively to the soft lull of the music Mrs. Curtis played.

He stared at it wistfully, and before he knew it he was sitting on the leather chair, hands on his lap, as if waiting for something to happen.

He looked at the marble white keys, and his fingers grazed the surface of it like it was a ghost.

He had never touched a piano like this since New York. When his mother was still around to teach him. Never had he played a song for ten years. Never had he felt the smooth keys beneath his fingers for so long. Dallas Winston wouldn't-couldn't be caught dead playing the piano...

He tapped it.

He flinched his hand back almost immediately.

It made a noise, no a sound.

It was like a beggining to a story. It was pretty, Dally had to admit.

He hesitated, _Fuck,_ _what the hell am I doing?_ This was wrong. It was wrong to use such a thing that belonged to someone else. Oh, but the temptation was killing him.

He looked at it nervously, as if it would screech or brake if he put his dangerous hands on the pretty piece.

Dally tapped it again. This time on a higher note, continuing the story. He did it again, but this time with confidence. As he did the deep measure.

He breathed in, almost as if preparing himself for a great battle. He leaned back then he pushed himself forward, his fingers landed on the keys as if taken by a magnet.

And he flew.

His hands flew over the keys taping and landing delicately as he spelled out the deep music of Pale Blue Eyes that filled the dark room bringing it to life.

The hood had no need for music sheets as he knew the song by heart. To Dallas, playing the piano was like riding a bike. He could never forget how to play. His blue iced eyes melted, and he let them close, and he let himself succumb to the music, and he swayed as he played.

It was a well kept secret that Dally loved to play the piano. In fact it was so well guarded that the only person that knew was his mother, who was long-dead now.

He never plans on telling anyone. They probably wouldn't understand. He doubts they would make fun of him, but that doesn't mean everyone in Tulsa won't start yelling and saying "Dallas Winston plays he piano! What a pussy!" He prefered to be known as they know him now. Not even Johnny, who might understand on some level, could be told of this secret. This was something only Dally could know. It was just best that way.

If someone were to listen (but if they were and sneaking up on him, he would personally take care of them) it would be clear that Dally had done this dozens of times before. But that was years ago, a different life.

All thoughts of the recent deaths of his family receded as he let the music wash over him.

The tunes he played were sometimes light and airy while others were darker toned and sad. It was a surprising balm to his hurt heart.

Unbeknownst to him, a certain dark-eyed Greaser came back as well. Johnny sat in the shadows between the big door and the corner wall. If anyone asked he would tell them it was not his intention to sit and listen. Truth be told Johnny Cade had been on his way to stay in the room for a while. Thinking that if he stayed around something that reminded him of the Curtis parents he might not feel so much pain of them being gone.

Now to say that Johnny was shocked when he walked in at the sight laid before him would have been like saying hell was just hot, a vast understatement. The instant his tired and upset mind registered what he was seeing he froze. All the nervousness fled from him like a cat from water. Johnny wasn't ready for something like this. He stood in the doorway observing the unbelievable spectacle before him. His senses came to him then and he ducked away quietly and sat behind the huge door, he peaked out to the side to look.

Dally had his eyes closed and head bowed almost as if he were praying. And perhaps he was, Johnny didn't know. Five minutes ago he would've doubted that Dally would pray on a day like this, but then again he would'be doubted that Dally would ever play the piano, and yet here they were.

Dally playing the piano was something he had never thought possible and knew instinctivley it was a rare sight.

Johnny closed his puffy red eyes and let the notes of the piece relax his mind. It took him only a moment to recognize Presley's 'Can't Help Falling In Love,' one of Johnny's favorites. Dally played it beautifully. The shy Greaser was one of the few in Tulsa who could say he knew the tuff Greaser well, but this was new.

This was a side to his friend he had never seen. He wasn't sure how he felt about this revelation. On one hand he knew everyone had their secrets, and this was obviously one of Dally's. Listening it was clear that the hood let himself be vulnerable while he played, and so he hid that part of himself. Johnny knew better than to feel hurt by the secret. He knew what it was like to have something to keep to yourself.

He sighed. He felt like he was intruding on this private piece of his friends, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. Part of it was exhausting but a larger part was he wanted to listen to Dally's playing.

It was nice seeing his walls dropped and it was refreshing to see beneath his carefully constructed mask. The moonlight shone through the window and illuminated Dally's face, making it glow. Johnny watched in awe as the blonde's mouth twitched upwards forming the semblance of a smile.

Johnny smiled widely as he thought, Perhaps Johnny was not the only one who needed the magic music.

 ** _Stay Gold,_**

 ** _Jenn U_**


	3. Soda

Please leave a REVIEW! You can also FOLLOW this story to be posted with updates! And maybe you should FAVORITE it too, so you don't forget it!okay anyways...Enjoy!

P.S. See if you can find the Avengers referance.

Sodapop

Soda was as bored as a dead man could be. Everyone was literally gone. Pony had to travel off somewhere for his track competition. Darry was working and taking extra shifts at his second job. (The guy just wouldn't take a break. No matter how hard Soda tried to make the couch seem so much more comfier than work.) TwoBit and Dally were running off who knows where. And he doesn't have a clue about Johnny. Steve didn't say where he was going, but told him he would be back by three thirty. That was an hour ago.

So it seems like Soda had the entire house to himself. He might had even have the entirety of Tulsa considering he didn't even hear a peep from outside.

Soda sighed and hit his head against the pillow over and over.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Wait...he's got something.

Nope...Continue.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Bored.

Wait!

An idea popped into his head.

He jumped up from the couch so fast it was as if he had just risen from the dead. He grabbed his cowboy hat and boots and flew out the door.

He honestly can't remember the last time he did this, and he could only hope that Darry or anyone else comes by the house anytime soon.

He walked for a good twenty is minutes north of town, walking with skip in his step. To anyone who saw would assume that the man was just engaged or going to meet the love of his life. And in a way he was. He soon hit the foresty part. He took a hike through there and tracked down the road and took a right at the corner of Tony S. Rogers RD where he finally saw a glimpse over yonder of a red barn and a solo. Over to the side a light blue house.

The familiar sweet old farmhouse burrowed into the upward slope of he land so deeply that you could enter either or middle at gerund level. It's window trim was delicate and the lights in it's sash were a bubbly amethyst.

He smiled as he heard the thin stream rush hitting the rocks in its path. He stepped over it cautiously, careful not to make the same mistake he did last time.

He looked over to the wooded field next for the untamed horses.

He could hear the horses stepping among the rocks and he could hear them drink from the shallow pools where the rocks lay smooth and rectilinear as the stones of ancient ruins.

He grinned widely as he came upon house. He loved hearing the clucks of the chickens, and the grunts and Moo's of the cows and most of all Soda loved the of bucks and whinnies of the horses, and the sound of there feet trotting in their field.

Sodapop never got over Mickey. He never got over horses either.

He never neccisarily went out drag racing. (Darry used to suspect) He would just come here to ride and hang out with the horses.

A dash of dark brown hair caught his eye. Soda must've grinned for the fifteenth time that day.

"Tyler!" He yelled. He waved his hands like a crazy person, trying to get the boy's attention.

Tyler turned confused, but his eyes went buck wild when he saw Soda racing towards him. "Is that you Sodapop Curtis?!" The young boy had a harsh southern accent. He was extremely tan with dusty jeans and a muddy brown boots. He had on a plaid blue button up shirt with a brown vest thrown over. He looked like the stereotypical cowboy with the hat thrown on.

Soda slowed to a stop in front of him. "Yeah it's me," Soda panted, his playful flamboyant smile plastered on his face.

Tyler grabbed him in a greeting hug, "Damn I haven't seen you in ages, Soda! How's Ponyboy coping, man? And Darry?"

Soda smiled warmly, "They're alright. It's been a while. We moved on from it."

Tyler nodded, "Good. Good. Come on! I think Mama and Pa want to see you!" And he dragged Soda into the cozy home. It had wood furnished floors and walls. The living room had a radio and a large chair and another two chairs but smaller in front of the fireplace.

"Do your brothers know that you're here?" Tyler asked on his way the kitchen.

"No, Ty. Everyone busy or away. No one'll know."

Tyler shook his head, "I still don't get why you don't tell them. You ain't doing anything bad."

"But they think I'm over horses, man. They think I'm over Mickey. And plus, Darry'll flip if I tell him I've been walking two miles on my lonesome."

Tyler grinned, "Oh well, then."

They appeared in the kitchen and a woman with fire red hair that curled down her back against her light green floral dress. She had a flour baked on her apron that showed that she had been cooking, and she too wore boots.

"Ma!" Tyler said, "Look who's here."

The lady turned and smiled right away, "Hello Soda! How're you? How are your brothers?"

"Hi Helen, they're fine." He greeted politely. "Pony and Darry say hi," he added. Helen and Michael had gotten used to only seeing Soda's face. But, thankfully, they didn't ask questions.

"That's nice. Well give them our regards."

"I will, ma'am."

After a few talks, catching up, a quick goodbye, Tyler dragged him outside once more and over to the horses in he barn.

"You know Mickey missed you?"

"Aw, I'm sorry boy." Soda scratched under the horse's neck. "But hey, guess what, I'm back! Let me make it up to you."

Yeah. You heard that right. Soda found Mickey. He really did. He never thought it was possible to see him again.

It had happened on a regular Tuesday afternoon, and he was drag racing that day. When they announced there would be another person in the ring with him he didn't seem bothered. At least not until a boy with brown hair and gray eyes rode into the circle on Mickey's back smiling up at someone in the audience. Soda was so stunned at the horse that he wasn't paying attention to anything that was going on.

As his horse started to buck he was still staring at Mickey. It didn't take long before the consequences for his distraction came round and hit him inthe face.

Literally.

Soda finally realized what was happening a moment too late as he suffered the his fate on the dusty ground with a dislocated shoulder and a twisted ankle.

His father made him quit after that. Everyone was so weirded out when they saw that he wasn't reacting as angry as they had thought he would. He didn't care. He was too busy looking for information on Mickey and the rider, but no one would take him seriously with his foot in a large blue boot and his entire arm casted and on a sling.

It took him days before his information finally got him to this place.

He had been so focused on seeing Mickey again, that he hadn't had anythimg prepared for what he was going to say when he got over there. His cheeks were bright pink with embarrassment for having everyone in the the front door of their house looking at him like was crazy while he stuttered for some sort of explanation. It wasn't until the brunnette boy pointed out that he was the same boy that fell of his horse, that he finally turned crimson. The cast wasn't helping him out much.

Thankfully after a couple of apologies and explainations, they had gotten past the awkward part, and Soda could actually call Tyler his friend. Soda also found out that Mickey was actually called Cornelius, but after he told him that he named him Mickey, they agreed that it was okay to call him Mickey. It seemed more fitting, and the horse seemed to prefer that name anyway.

Mickey was beautiful too. Even more beautiful than he remembered. The wind wisped his mane into the air like flames, after all he was a flame colored chestnut. A fiery one with attitude too. His muscles rippled from under his freshly groomed pelt and his powerful legs.

He couldn't possibly explain how incredible it felt to be reunited with Mickey, so he could just say that it was amazing.

Soda smiled at his horse. He could finally call the horse his again.

Tyler pulled Blueberry, a midnight black horse, out of her stables by the reins. He put a saddle on her back and fixed it. He pulled himself onto the horse with ease, "Member how to get on?"

"Uh huh!" Soda grunted. He did, but he was having trouble hooking the belt of the saddle so he would slide off, "Just give me a minute."

He fiddled with the hooks until he finally got the darn things right. "Got it!"

That you did." Tyler smirked condescendingly at him from above.

Soda ignored him and swung his legs over getting on top of Mickey, "I'm on!"

"Finally." Tyler muttered playfully.

Soda rolled his eyes, "Yeah, yeah. But it's been months, man."

Tyler moved forward, "No excuses. Oh, and make sure to watch out for the beam, Curtis!"

"Don't worry," Soda mutterd. "Ain't gonna make that mistake again." The first time he came round here he hit his head on the beam in the way of the exit. Hard. It left a dark purplish bruise in the spot similar to the spot where he hit his head if he were drag racing. He had a hard time explaining that one to Darry when he got home.

They rode across the farm land and over to the field over yonder. Well actually they raced, but Tyler ended up winning, much to Soda's dismay. Soda split off a while later, riding with only Mickey. The horse was silently trotting. Soda grinned in anticipation.

Let's switch things up.

The thundering of Mickey's hooves split the silence as a lone stallion galloped through the bleak landscapes. His powerful legs propelled him forward and kept him going as he powered over the land.

Soda gripped Mickey's rein and ran his hands through his mane. Mickey whinnied and raced faster.

Soda lifted one hand in the air then did the other. "WHHOO HOOO!" He whooped and screamed. The wind was literally hitting him like a frying pan to the face, but except enjoyable.

He thought that things couldn't get any better until they were coming upon a stream. It wasn't very thin. Not at all. It was actually kinda wide.

"Shit." Soda whispered. Last time he checked Mickey couldn't make a jump that big.

"Oh no... Mickey!" He dropped his hands like they were holding a ton of bricks. He grabbed at the reins and pulled away, but they didn't change direction.

"Mickey!" He pulled on the reins but the stubborn horse wouldn't budge.

They were getting closer. Shit, he really should have stayed with Tyler.

He pulled again on the reins, but no avail.

They were about twenty feet away and still counting down. Soda closed his eyes.

He waited, but nothing.

He opened his eyes at the last moment.

They were literally flying.

Mickey jumped the ridge at the last second and landed still running.

He sat still in shock as Mickey continued galloping. He caught Tyler's eye. The brunette had a devious smirk on his mouth. Soda stared unbelieving. The bastard planned for the entire thing.

 _'You?!'_ Soda mouthed, eyes buck wide with shock.

Tyler simply nodded as he raced past.

 _Dear God he's going to get it..._

But Soda had to admit, it was amazing feeling as though he were flying.

Soda looked down at the racing horse, "And you! You're supposed to be loyal to me, not him!"

Mickey merely whinnied in dismissivley.

Soda sighed, "Such darn attitude. Of all the horses I could've chose..."

Mickey bucked, "Alright! Alright! I'm just kidding, boy. That was an amazing jump. I'm guessing he taught you that? God, you're such a good horse..."

Mickey whinnied in excitment.

They jumped, and Soda touched the blue water skies and the fluffy clouds once again.

 ** _Stay Gold,_**

 ** _Jenn U._**


End file.
